


“Is that blood?”

by evakuality



Series: tumblr dialogue prompts [5]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 04:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18335786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: “Baby?” Isak asks, looking up.  “What’s the matter?”“I’m so bored,” Even says morosely.  “You’re studying, so I can’t even listen to music, the bag’s too full and this shirt is covered in … what even is that?  Is that … blood?”  He glowers at the shirt as if he can make it spill its secret with sheer force of will.  If it’s blood that’s a whole other problem of getting difficult stains out of the now-flimsy and fragile fabric.





	“Is that blood?”

It’s one of those days where things are just going wrong.  Isak’s breathing a little too loud as he hunches over the computer.  Which is  _ fine, _ Even thinks to himself.  He’s allowed to need to study.  But because he’s studying Even can’t play any music while he does the chores.  Again, fine. They need to be done and Isak needs his peace. That’s just life.  But the thing is, the music usually drowns out the loud breathing. And okay so theoretically Even could just use headphones with his phone.  But he still wouldn’t be able to sing and if he can’t sing then what’s the goddam point? 

So it’s annoying.  Doing the chores in deathly silence is not Even’s idea of fun.  He’s busy gathering their clothes and perhaps he accidentally (definitely not intentionally; Even may be annoyed right now, but he’s not an asshole) made more noise than he’d intended to.  Isak mutters to himself and hunches more, fingers twitching in obvious irritation. Even sighs. While he adores living with Isak, there are times when the tiny space they live in can become a little too confining, a little too cozy.

He grabs at the last few pieces of clothing scattered beside the bed and stuffs them into the bag they use for taking washing down to the machines.  They just can’t fit a real laundry basket into the space, so this flimsy bag has to do, even if it seems like Even’s about to rip it open every time he tries to add something to the already bulging sides.  Even pushes the last piece in and growls as it stubbornly refuses to fit itself neatly around the rest of it. They’ve left it too long again then and the bag is overstuffed beyond even his ability to make things work.  He huffs and throws his head back.

“Baby?” Isak asks, looking up.  “What’s the matter?”

“I’m so bored,” Even says morosely.  “You’re studying, so I can’t even listen to music, the bag’s too full and this shirt is covered in … what even is that?  Is that … blood?” He glowers at the shirt as if he can make it spill its secret with sheer force of will. If it’s blood that’s a whole other problem of getting difficult stains out of the now-flimsy and fragile fabric.

Isak laughs, all strain leaving his face as he gets up and comes over to where Even is standing by the bed.  Which, to be fair, is only three steps from the table where Isak’s working. He takes the shirt out of Even’s hands and examines it.

“No.  That’s just sauce, I think.  From that pasta we had the other night.”  He smiles at Even. “It’s cute that you think it might be blood though.  I like that you think I’m so tough I’d get that much blood everywhere.”

Even smiles, his gloom lifting just from this one small interaction.  “Not tough, Isak. So delicate that you’d spill it this easily.” He shakes the shirt Isak’s still holding and chuckles when Isak lets out an affronted gasp.  “And I’m not sure that being this grubby with sauce is any tougher or better.”

“You take that back!  I’m the toughest.”

“Mmmmhmmm, baby, you tell yourself whatever you need to.”

Isak pulls on the offending item, clearly about to say something more about how tough he is, like a dog with a bone at the implication.  But Even’s grip is too tight, and the space they’re occupying is too small, so all that happens is that they stumble and both tip. Even can feel his body starting to go and he yelps, grabs onto the nearest object to try to stay upright.  Unfortunately that object is Isak who is also falling and so they both tumble to the ground in an inelegant heap, scattering their possessions and making the table slide closer to the window..

“Ow, shit,” Isak says, lifting his fingers to his head which had bumped on the ground when they collapsed.  “Now there’s actual blood.”

Even examines him closely.  There’s a tiny cut above his eye, though it looks like it might soon be eclipsed by the bruise that’s going to form.  “You’ll survive,” he says with a fond kiss to the temple. “And you can say you got that black eye during a fight with a dashingly handsome man.”

Isak groans and lets his head drop back to the floor.  He pushes at Even, who reluctantly moves so Isak can roll over and sit up.

“This place is too fucking small,” Isak says as he gets to his feet.  

“I was just thinking the same thing while you were studying.”

“Too bad we can’t get another one.”

“Why can’t we?” Even asks, the idea of them in a newer bigger place with actual rooms appearing fully formed in his mind.  “I’m working more hours, and you have some shifts. We have more money now so why can’t we find somewhere better?”

The look on Isak’s face is startled amazement.  As if he’d never considered that as an option. “We could … do that?” he asks, a dreamy quality tinging his voice.  “Just like that? This place is too small so we can move?”

“Mmmm,” Even says, wrapping his arms around and Isak who hasn’t moved too far away.  Mostly because he can’t. But that’s all part of the charm of this suddenly-appealing very small, snug place.  The fact that they’re only ever an arm’s length away from each other for kissing and snuggling purposes. He says as much to Isak who laughs.

“Baby, I don’t think it’s going to be hard being together even somewhere bigger.”  He smirks as he lets his eyes twinkle. “You know we can’t keep our hands to ourselves.”  He demonstrates, sliding his hands down until his fingers are brushing in under Even’s waistband and Even sucks in a breath.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.  We move as soon as we can.”

Isak kisses him then, a long, slow kiss that makes Even’s blood rush to his head and leaves him breathless when he pulls back.  Isak steps away, and sits back down at the table with his laptop, which somehow miraculously escaped the carnage as they both fell over.  He grins over at Even and winks, letting him know that while he’s working for now, that they’ll follow up on the promise of that kiss later.  Smiling, humming to himself, Even turns back to his work. It’s as boring as it was before, but Even’s heart is lighter. It’s still cramped and uncomfortable, he still feels like he’s in Isak’s way.  But he also feels like something’s shifted and he doesn’t feel so defeated by it all anymore. They can just find somewhere new tomorrow … or the next day, or whenever the perfect spot turns up. 

So much delight has opened up with the prospect that Even’s actually singing when he gets to the door to take the washing downstairs.  And isak just smiles benignly at him as he watches him out the door before his head turns back to his work as the door closes behind Even.


End file.
